


Dailyccprompt Fill

by hestherewithme



Series: Collection of Random Crisscolfer Drabbles. [24]
Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 20:59:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5179451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hestherewithme/pseuds/hestherewithme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt #116 from daily-crisscolfer-prompts : Chris develops a severe case of OCD and begins to see a therapist when it gets the point where he is almost reclusive. A therapist with a very cute receptionist (Darren).</p><p>Disclaimer : I did research as best I could about OCD, but most likely wrote something inaccurate. For that I am deeply sorry.</p><p>~2,500 words</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dailyccprompt Fill

>  

Out of all the people who could have pointed out what was wrong, his sister happened to be the first. Others probably thought it was nothing, or didn’t notice. Unless they did, and simply kept quiet about it.

“Why do you always lock the door so twice?” she asked.

“I-It’s just a habit, I guess.” Chris responded.

“But you don’t need to do it twice. It’s already locked. You just unlock and lock it again. That’s dumb.”

And Chris couldn’t shake it off. The thought that it seemed stupid to others, locking twice. He did a lot of things multiple times. He checked the iron, stove, heater, sinks…It was normal, to him.

It did get worse whenever he wrote, sometimes he’d need to press the backspace key exactly 10 times, even though it would remove some words he didn’t want erased. It just had to be done that way so he could continue. There was no reason for doing it that way, it’s just how it was.

But the comment made by his sibling stuck to the back of his mind. Was it stupid? He couldn’t just stop caring…

* * *

 

Crowds. He hated crowds. They were suffocating, loud, at times claustrophobic. Chris couldn’t think of any positive way to describe them. Well, besides the fact that those crowds were there for him.

Counting made it easier. Each tenth tap would be another person he’d have to talk to. Each hundred taps he needed a sip of Diet Coke. That was the system he put in his mind and it got him through most signings.

But then came days he couldn’t do it. His agent referred to them as  _mood swings_ , and he needed to fight through them because his job required it. Nobody couldn’t understand that, nor could he describe, how impossible it felt. He couldn’t ignore it. The fifth time he refused to attend an event was when she demanded he start ‘seeing someone’.

At first he was perplexed, ‘ _how the hell is a relationship going to make this easier?’_ he’d thought.

But eventually he understood, when a scheduled appointment with a very well-recommended and trusted therapist appeared on his e-mail.

* * *

 

The building had seemed more threatening from the outside. But as much as Chris hated to admit it, the interior was better. Spacious, clean, not noisy. It was almost comforting.

And there was a cute receptionist, with whom Chris could anticipate failing at a conversation with.

“U-Um excuse me.” Chris stuttered out, not sure if he was listening to someone on the headset he was wearing.

“Good afternoon sir, how may I help you?” the man said, with an endearing smile. Such a smile would usually cause Chris to look away shyly, but he couldn’t stop staring.

“I- I’m here to see Dr. Howard?”

“Alright. And may I please have your last name?” he said, seemingly pulling up records on his computer.

“Colfer. First name Chris.”

“Perfect.” he replied, with an emphasis on the ‘ _r_ ’. “You’re a little early Mr. Colfer, so I’ll just have you fill out some forms. As soon as you’re done you can hand them off to me, and I’ll send you right in.”

“Okay.” Chris replied.

“And if you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

* * *

 

Chris took his time filling out the sheet’s in front of him, aware that he had almost an hour to kill.

The receptionist had put it kindly by saying he was a little early. He always showed up an hour before for appointments, as he was afraid of missing them and would have to go through the hassle of re-scheduling.

There weren’t many patients, much to Chris’ relief, and nobody seemed to be in a rush. It was calming. And Chris didn’t miss the way the receptionist kept glancing over at him.

Eventually he walked back over to the counter, and nervously handed over the forms. He hoped the guy wouldn’t read them over, but he did. He entered the information quietly into his computer after thanking Chris.

He must have noticed Chris’ disposition, because he quietly said, “Don’t worry, that whole confidentiality agreement applies to me as well.”

“I—I just hope it doesn’t freak you out.” Chris mumbled out.

“Oh, no. Of course it wouldn’t. I see this stuff all the time. It’s not my place to judge or anything. All I’m doing is making the Ms. Howard’s job easier. Call it organizing.” he said with a shrug.

“Is she good?” Chris asked. “At her job, I mean. This, it’s my first time doing something like this so I-I-‘m not sure what I’m getting into.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry. Dr. Howard’s a big believer in conversational therapy, talking to people, rather than give prescription after prescription. Her patients always feel like they can be open with her.”

“Is that a thing? Conversational therapy?” Chris asked, intrigued.

“I think it is. I’m not an expert, but talking always helps, doesn’t it?” he asked.

“I hope so.” Chris said, receiving an understanding nod in return.

“Well, I think its time for you to head in, Mr. Colfer. You can tell me how it goes after you’re done.”

“Okay.” Chris said, following the man’s raised arm that gestured towards a door, but paused before he entered. “Wait, I-I didn’t get your name.”

The receptionist looked momentarily confused, probably not used to that question, but smiled yet again and answered, “It’s Darren.”

* * *

 

After introductions and the basic outline that all therapists had to recite to their patients, Dr. Howard started her session.

“Do you know why you’re here?” she asked, flat out. “Hardly anybody comes to a therapist by their own choice. Most don’t even know why they’re here.”

“Aren’t you supposed to tell me that.”

She nodded slowly, “Yes. That’s part of the job, but it’s important that you know as well.”

“I have an idea.”

“Good. Then I’d like to hear you say it.”

Chris gulped, not used to such blatant mannerisms, “I think I have some OCD-like behaviors. I put a little research into the actual habits, not just what the term is used for.”

“Well, I think you’re right. And that’s good. Because it means you’re not shying away from it. It’s not easy for anyone but it all depends on how you handle it, right?”

Chris nodded, not exactly looking her in the eyes.

“I think you’re an intelligent, capable young man, and even though it doesn’t seem like it, I believe you’ll learn to cope.”

* * *

 

Dr. Howard walked Chris out of her office, informing Chris to schedule his next appointment with her through her receptionist.

Chris walked towards the counter and was about to speak, but Darren stopped him politely, pointing at his earpiece and apologetically smiling to make Chris feel less awkward.

 _‘Tap. Tap your finger and thumb together 20 times. He’ll be finished by then, and you can talk. It’ll be okay. Just tap.’_ Chris told himself.

He patiently waited as Darren finished the call, and turned to him.

“So, how was it?” Darren asked.

“Oh, right. It went well. Better than I made it out to be in my mind. I feel like I do that with a lot of things.”

“It’s okay. You had the guts to go through with it, which is more than what most people do. Now that the first session is out of the way, the rest should be easier. At least, until you feel like you can do it on your own.”

“I think I’ll need to come here a few more times.”

“All right then. So, when are you free?” Darren asked.

“I-Um. Free?” Chris stumbled out, feeling his heart rate increase dramatically.

_Calm down. Breathe._

“For your next session…” he explained.

“Yeah. Of course….Same time next week?” Chris answered.

“Okay. I’ll just type that up.” Darren said, taking a few seconds to input that information. “And, what about this Saturday?”

“Saturday?” Chris asked confused.

“Are you free this Saturday? Not for a session, but for some coffee? With me?”

“Coffee?”

“I’m asking you out on a date Mr. Colfer. It’s perfectly fine to decline, or reschedule.” he said with a grin that made it impossible for Chris to say no.

“N-No. I can, I can do that.”

“Good. I have your number saved on your file, so I’ll text you the address.”

“Okay.”

Chris didn’t count the steps to his front door when he got back home.

* * *

 

“So…tell me about yourself.” Darren said, taking a sip of his apple juice, which Chris thought was the most ridiculous thing to order at a coffee shop. But Chris liked the fact that he did.

“You read my file, you already know more about me than most people.”

“I only know some parts. Those aren’t things that define you.” Darren said seriously.

“So you want me to define myself?”

“Nah, that’s like fifth-date shit. How about we stick to simple stuff today, like hobbies?”

“Sai swords.”

“Collecting them?”

“Nope.” Chris shook his head, “I—I know how to use them.”

“Holy shit! No way!”

Darren seemed genuinely impressed. Most people’s reactions were a mixture of confusion and a little worry.

“You are probably, no,  _certainly_  the most amazing person I’ve ever met,” he continued, causing Chris to blush.

Darren continued the conversation; switching to his interests (which seemed never ending) but Chris could have heard him go on forever.

And something in Chris’ brain just clicked. There was something about Darren that was incredibly calming.

His physical features: symmetric, bold, aesthetically pleasing. His voice: soothing, deep, comforting.

_God, he’s perfect._

Chris felt Darren’s personality complementing him, bits of information that were mentally fitting in like puzzle pieces.

It was oddly satisfying; that even something metaphorical was comforting his compulsions.

But there was something else, that Chris couldn’t quite place. And though not being able to find an answer was something that irritated Chris to no end, this was a challenge he didn’t mind facing.

* * *

 

Chris couldn’t go to this session. Not today. He walked in and out of his front door, but no number of repetitions seemed  _right._

He tried on the tenth minute of every hour since he woke up. None of those times worked. But what frustrated him was that he wanted to. He wanted to be there. To attend those sessions. To sit in that waiting room and spend more time with Darren. He needed every and any excuse possible to spend time with that man.

It was a quarter to one. He’d try to leave again in exactly twenty-five minutes. That would be the last trial. If he failed that one, he’d miss his appointment.

As Chris worked up the nerve, his phone rang, and was surprised to see an unnamed caller.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Colfer?”

“Darren.”

“Yes, sir. I’m calling to remind you that you have an appointment at 2pm this afternoon.”

“Darren. You…You know you can call me Chris.”

There was a pause, and Chris remembered he was most likely at work. Where he couldn’t just take a personal call to remind him of his appointment. He shouldn’t even have done this; usually reminders for appointments were sent by text or e-mail.

“You make an excellent point sir, but I believe I can’t change that information over the phone. I’m afraid your presence in person in necessary.”

“I can’t.” Chris said, remembering the futile attempts he’d made previously.

“Is there something I—we can do to help?”

_Yes._

_“_ No.” Chris lied.

“Are you sure, Mr. Colfer?”

_No._

“Yes. I don’t think I’ll make the appointment today.”

“I understand.” Darren said, quietly. “Have a nice day.”

“Bye Darren.” Chris said, ending the call, and mentally cursing himself. Why couldn’t he just build up the courage to go? Chris hated himself at times like this, knowing too well that the only one suffering was himself.

He took a look at his phone and saw a string of messages from Darren, that started early that morning, up until he’d most likely gone to work.

He did care, though Chris didn’t need a few texts to prove that.

Chris was about to try and leave again, counting down the final minutes until his next trial, when his doorbell rang. He didn’t open it immediately, mildly worried because nobody came over unless he’d invited them. But after the second chime of the bell, he walked up to the front door and glanced through the peephole.

_Darren._

He unlocked the four locks he had installed, that were usually quite annoying to the few visitors Chris ever had over, but Darren didn’t seem bothered at all when Chris fully opened the door.

“Hey.” Darren said so casually, as though Chris expected him to be there.

“W-What are you doing here?” Chris asked.

“Oh, um, I-” Darren mumbled, looking worried that he’d done the wrong thing by coming here. “You just seemed, I mean, you sounded a little distraught over the phone, and I thought…”

Chris just stared at him babbling, and wondered if it would be appropriate to grab him and kiss him there and then.

_Probably not.  You’ve only been on two dates._

“May I come in?” Darren asked eventually, and Chris ushered him in.

He took a seat on the couch, after confirming if it was okay with Chris. Chris didn’t know whether it was Darren’s politeness or caution of Chris’ personal compulsions, but he liked that Darren still cared enough to worry about that.

Chris paced around the living room, before settling on a couch opposite of where Darren was seated.

_Shit. Should I have sat next to him?_

_Fuck._

_I…1..2..3..No don’t…Now’s not the time. Ask him something._

“Do you want something to drink?” Chris said, hoping that his tension wasn’t too obvious.

“I’m good. Don’t worry about it.” Darren said with a wave of his hand. “I probably freaked you out by just showing up at your door. I’m sorry.” he apologized.

“No.” Chris said, surprising both himself and Darren with how certain he sounded. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Okay then.” Darren said, trying to suppress a smile that Chris wished he wasn’t trying to contain.

“So? You’re allowed to leave work like that?”

“It’s the first time I’m doing it, so let’s see how it works out.”

Chris momentarily forgot how to breathe when he realized what that meant. He’d barely known Darren for a couple of weeks, and there he was, already managing to seize Chris’ heart.

“I can’t do this.” Chris said.

“W-What?” Darren sputtered out, wondering what he’d said wrong.

“You don’t know what its like Darren. The fear, the anxiety, the things I see if things don’t go the way they  _need_ to.”

“And?” Darren replied as calmly as he could.

“What if it starts to piss you off?”

“It won’t.”

“But what if it does. You know that you can’t fix it. You can’t make me better.” Chris insisted.

“I know I can’t do that Chris. I don’t need to. All I can do is make the days better, and that’s only if you let me.”

That statement overwhelmed him. He sat back, not sure what to say, trying to drive out all the negative outcomes of this scenario.

_What if it’s too much for him, and he’s just saying this for now?_

_What if he hurts you? Or if you hurt him?_

_What if…_

His thoughts were interrupted as both of Darren’s hands clasped his own trembling ones, and though he didn’t say a word, Chris understood.

He was going to be okay.


End file.
